


Zero First Dates

by Beltenebra



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, Kis-My-Ft2 (Band)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Original Character(s), Sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-06-07
Packaged: 2018-07-12 23:12:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7127225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beltenebra/pseuds/Beltenebra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miyata asks for Tamamori's assistance before a big date. Tamamori helps him as far as he's capable – which it turns out isn't very far.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zero First Dates

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for kis-my-fic2 2013. It was originally going to be an AU but I like the way it turned out.

It was all Kitayama's fault. To be fair it probably would have happened eventually. To keep their popularity up, the performers of the moment all did the same rounds of variety shows and music programs. Tamamori imagined a map of appearances, each talent a different color, bright lines crisscrossing in a dizzying array. They were bound to run into each other at some point. But Tamamori didn't feel like being fair. 

Kitayama had been flogging his new drama on some program or another and he happened to be paired up with Kamiya Rei for a game. People said she was the next Shoko-tan: cute, bubbly, and not at all shy about her predilection for anime and video games. She sang the theme song for a new anime - something with robots and politics maybe - Tamamori hadn't watched it so he was guessing based on the promo art. It was a breakout hit, this season's must watch show, apparently. And Kamiya was an instant hit too, performing the song and talking up the show. She must be charming, people seemed quite taken with her. Even Kitayama said she was fun to talk to. 

Tama never would have pegged Kitayama of all people as the matchmaking type but when he saw Kamiya's name on the list of appearing artists for their next Music Station spot his face lit up with a sly smile. "Miyacchi, you know Rei-chan, right?"

Miyata smiled his crooked smile, "Well, I know of her. The new show is amazing and I already bought the OST. But I've never met her." 

"I can introduce you next week at M-Sute." Kitayama's tone was casual but Miyata lit up like Tokyo Tower. Tamamori's stomach clenched painfully. It must be past time for lunch. He wandered off in search of a vending machine – Miyata's stupid face was annoying him for some reason. 

It was worse in person. They had barely arrived on set before Kitayama had dragged Miyata off to meet the girl. For the last twenty minutes or so of pre-show time they had been in their own little world, enthusiastically debating... something – sounded like the relative merits of various Gundam series. Good lord. Tamamori rolled his eyes. They were over in the corner of the soundstage, he didn't have to listen, certainly they hadn't asked for his opinion. It would be the easiest thing in the world to ignore them, it's not like he hadn't heard Miyata have the same discussion before, half-listening and making vague comments at appropriate times while he scrolled through his phone mail. He was completely at a loss to explain why their innocuous conversation made him want to stab himself in the eye with a fork. 

It didn't help that the older members wouldn't shut up about it. Kitayama was practically radiating smug amusement. "Miyacchi's totally got game. I expect they'll be announcing their engagement any day now." 

Fujigaya's leveled one of his completely ineffective death glares at their leader. "They had _better_ not be. We're in a good place now if he does something to-" 

He was cut off by a warm chuckle and Yokoo's restraining hand on his shoulder "Oh relax, Taipi. He's kidding." 

Tamamori just wished he was allowed to use his earphones on the set. All he wanted was to close his eyes and go back to the way things were before. _Where most of Miyata's attention was focused on you, you mean?_ He mentally shushed the insidious voice in his head. He just wanted things to go back to normal. That was all.

~~~

The day was definitely not the comfortable status quo Tamamori had been hoping for when Miyata's name had flashed on his phone screen.

"You have a _what_?!" He winced at little at his tone, he hadn't meant to sound quite so panicky. Or alarmed in any way, actually. 

Miyata sounded amused rather than pissed off at Tamamori's incredulous screech. "A date. You remember Kamiya-chan. We were talking after the show last week and she said we should meet again sometime. So I asked her out. Manager-san said it was ok." 

"You asked the manager if you could go on a date?" 

"Well, sort of." He sounded slightly sheepish and Tamamori wondered how the manager had responded. He was positive none of the other members had ever bothered to get permission. I didn't want to cause trouble for anyone." 

Of course he didn't. Because Miyata thought about things like that – the potential impact of his personal life on the group dynamic and their public image. Because Miyata loved his group and didn't want to jeopardize their careers, even for his own happiness. Tama's chest constricted painfully - was this what a panic attack felt like? 

On the other end of the line, Miyata sighed lightly. "Stop looking at me like that."

Tamamori's reply came out sounding sharper than he intended. "Like what? We're on the phone, how can you _possibly_ know how I'm looking?"

"I can hear it in your voice. It's that pinchy, someone-just-squeezed-a-lemon-into-my-eyes look. You know, the Ren face." 

Tama glanced up at the mirror. Damn. He was totally making the face. He forced his face into a more mild expression but he still looked pissed. 

Miyata's voice was gentle, "It's a date, Tama. I'm not quitting the company or anything. It's a _first_ date. Who knows if we'll even hit it off." 

But Tama knew they would. He remembered the enthusiastic ease of their conversation on M-Sute and the way she had looked at Miyata as they talked, her sweet, sincere smile - her eyes had sparkled, not that he had been paying such close attention, it was just obvious is all - and Miyata's unrestrained laughter. Even Miyata couldn't screw things up that badly. 

"Anyway, would you come over and help me decide what to wear?" 

"Miyata, you're not Senga, you can definitely dress yourself." 

"Yeah, I know but my clothes are so normal. I want to look... good."

The last thing Tamamori wanted to do was haul himself over to Miyata's and choose an outfit but they were best friends for a reason. Miyata had never hesitated to help him at the cost of his own time and convenience. "I'm sure you would be just fine on your own," he muttered but he was already pulling on his boots. 

"You're coming anyway, right?" There was that happy, hopeful voice that made Tamamori's chest flutter uncomfortably. 

"Yeah, yeah. I'm on my way."

~~~

The second Miyata opened the door it was clear to Tamamori that he had done his best to put together an outfit that he thought would look _cool_. He gave his friend a critical once-over from the genkan. Usually Miyata basked in focused attention from Tamamori, today he looked tense, anxiously fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

"The jeans are ok, actually. But not with that shirt and the shoes have definitely got to go. We'll fix that first and then worry about accessorizing." 

Miyata gave him a pathetically grateful smile and trailed behind him on the familiar path to the bedroom. 

If he kept his focus on the closet, scrutinizing Miyata's wardrobe with a critical eye, maybe he could keep his mind off the reasons he was doing this. 

"I mean, I know I'm not the cool one but I'd like to look cool. At least a little. You know? You're always so well-dressed, Tama. I think you usually look great." 

He let Miyata ramble happily while he considered and ruthlessly rejected shirts. "Mmm-hmm. Wait – usually?" 

"Sometimes in the morning you look a little zombiefied. Still a pretty fashionable zombie, though." 

Tamamori rolled his eyes. "Even as a zombie, I'd be less weird than you. 

"Probably!" Miyata sounded less nervous, closer to his usual self. Tamamori had a theory that Miyata needed him around to give him kind of a hard time to maintain his Miyata cheer. That's what he liked to think, at least. 

The tricky thing was that he didn't want to make Miyata look _too_ cool. Not that he thought Miyata couldn't pull it off but it didn't feel quite right making him into one of those sharp, untouchable looking guys who littered the streets of Ginza. He still wanted him to be Miyacchi. He seriously hoped this girl appreciated all of his effort. 

It wasn't very long until he had Miyata looking casually sexy, a cool graphic t-shirt – white pattered with a kind of abstract circuit board pattern in electric blue and grey, very geek chic, he remembered telling Miyata that he needed to own it and practically marching him up to the boutique's register – topped with a sleek dark grey blazer and a single silver necklace. Very minimal. Tamamori circled Miyata, checking out all of the angles. Those jeans made Miyata's ass look great and the blazer showed off the effect well. If he were a girl he would _definitely_ want to hit that. 

There was no earthly reason for him to be blushing. He was only preoccupied by the ass because he was imagining things from the girl's perspective. He forced himself to take a deep breath and calm down. He pronounced Miyata fit for company. It was definitely time to go. 

Miyata asked if it was too much trouble to drop him off near the restaurant on Tamamori's way home and he couldn't come up with a good reason to say no. Somehow he didn't think 'I am against the idea of you dating this girl for reasons that have nothing to do my own conflicted feelings about you because they don't exist' would cut it. 

It was too much to hope that he could just ignore the whole situation from here on out – pretend that he was dropping Miyata off to meet with a manager. He kept his eyes on the road like some of his confusion would bubble out into the space between them if he looked at Miyata. But [out] of the corner of his eye he could see his friend was going to say something. 

Miyata asked casually if he had any other advice. "I know you do this kind of thing more often than me," he finished with a small, almost shy smile. 

He should tell him to try not to be _too_ hopelessly nerdy, not to put her off by being overly enthusiastic. If he tried he could probably give him all the wrong advice, have him acting like one of the suave club jerks that some girls flocked to. But he couldn't really bring himself to sabotage Miyata's date, much as the little demon on his shoulder was rooting for it. 

It was like his brain had relinquished any control it had on his mouth. He couldn't make himself shut up. "Just... be yourself. It'll be great." 

After all, it had worked on him. And this girl already liked sweet, otaku-types. She didn't stand a chance. 

The rest of the ride passed more or less normally with Miyata rambling on about something he had been reading recently and Tamamori occasionally commenting, mostly to keep his mind from running in circles around the idea of Miyata's stupid date. 

Tamamori silently willed the lights to turn red, delaying the inevitable. Why is it that he only got red lights when he didn't want them? Why were the green lights being so damned obliging today? Maybe it was a sign. The universe was telling him that Miyata was meant to have an amazing time and sweep this girl off her feet and they'd get married and have tiny, otaku-babies and - 

"Tama, you're grinding your teeth, are you ok?" Miyata's concerned voice cut into his reverie. 

"Yeah, I'm fine." It sounded forced but he figured a bit forced was better than outraged. 

"Here is good, thanks! Tama, I really do appreciate all of your help today. You're the best friend ever." 

Tamamori could only blink and nod in the face of Miyata's warm sincerity. 

His friend grinned back, "I'll fill you in on all the details later." 

When his immediate thought was that he would rather commit seppuku with a butter knife than listen to a play-by-play of Miyata's sure-to-be-amazing date, Tamamori knew it was time for drastic measures. 

He put his hand on Miyata's shoulder and pulled him forward, barely registering Miyata's shocked expression before their lips met. He willed his eyes to stay closed, he didn't think he wanted to see Miyata's face right now. The second it took for Miyata to respond felt like an eternity but it passed and then it was perfect. Miyata's mouth opened under his and it was soft and hot and made Tamamori feel shaky with relief. It was like something inside him had given way, some unknown pressure _finally_ easing. 

He didn't want it to end. At the end of this kiss would be all kinds of awkwardness and questions and other not-fun things. It did have to end eventually but he did a little dance in his head when he was the first one to pull back. Miyata looked stunned, but in a good way- like someone had hit him in the face with happiness. It wasn't his usual carefree smile, it was a different one that Tama only caught glimpses of occasionally and mostly when Miyata thought he wasn't looking. It was all soft around the edges and... glowy. 

Tamamori cleared his throat. "Umm. You have to go." 

Miyata blinked. 

Tamamori unlocked the doors and gave Miyata's shoulder a gentle shove. "Have a good date." 

"Yeah, ok." Miyata sounded a bit lost. Tama couldn't really blame him, he didn't know what to say either. He settled for staring at his steering wheel until Miyata sighed helplessly and got out of the car. 

Tama gave him a half-hearted wave as he pulled away from the curb. Now safely alone in the car he groaned out loud. That couldn't have possibly been more uncomfortable. He needed to go home. And possibly drown himself in the bath. Or whiskey. Yeah, whiskey sounded good.

~~~

If it had been anyone else he would have been completely paranoid that they were on their date, explaining Tamamori's mental dysfunctions in great detail and having a good laugh with their companion over his weirdness. But Miyata would never do that to him. He'd never do that to anyone.

No, all he had to worry about was irrevocably screwing up his closest friendship. Things were bound to be weird after this. "How could they not be?" he asked his drink. The whiskey declined to answer him. Maybe he needed to ask another glass or two. 

He had almost willed himself off the couch when his door bell rang. He glared at it balefully – he really didn't feel equipped to deal with whatever was on the other side of the door. 

"This is just a courtesy warning. I know you're there, I'm coming in." 

Tamamori blinked. That was the last voice he had expected to hear. It hadn't even been two hours since he dropped Miyata off. His friend walked in like nothing out of the ordinary had happened, toeing off his boots in the entryway like he had so many times before. 

"Miyata, what are you doing _here_?" 

He seemed awfully cheerful for someone whose evening Tamamori had inevitably ruined with his ill-timed and uncontrolled burst of feelings. "I had a date. Now I have zero dates." 

"Whose fault is that, idiot." It was a knee-jerk response, he was caught completely off-kilter with no idea how to proceed. Luckily, Miyata usually gave him a lot of leeway in situations like this. In every situation, really. 

The look Miyata gave him was perfectly eloquent. Tama could hear the unspoken 'are you quite serious' echo across the space between them. 

He could feel his cheeks flame. "Yeah, ok. Mostly mine." 

Miyata's grin was triumphant. "You owe me a date." 

At this point it was pretty difficult to convince himself that he wasn't one hundred percent willing to make that happen. There was no question that Miyata already had a perfect grip on the situation. Tamamori gave up trying to figure out what he _should_ be doing and just flopped back on the couch. All of this emotional guesswork was exhausting. 

Miyata sat down right next to him – their shoulders brushing - as close as usual but Tamamori did absolutely nothing to discourage the proximity. When he turned his head to look at the other man, their noses were mere centimeters apart. 

"Seriously though, what happened?" 

Miyata's expression turned thoughtful. "I didn't say anything at first but Rei-chan figured out pretty quickly that something big had happened. I'm not the best actor in the world. I didn't want to lie to her, I thought she deserved better so I told her what happened. We talked about it for a little while. 

"You talked about _me_?"

"Not directly, more like how I feel about you. She was so nice and supportive, she told me I would be a total moron if I didn't talk to you about it tonight." 

Tamamori appreciated the girl, he really did but his brain was stuck on a more important detail. "How do you feel about me, Miyacchi?" 

Miyata's voice was suddenly low and a bit rough around the edges – the sound shot straight to Tamamori's gut. "Don't you know, Tama-chan? I've only been telling you for ages."

He couldn't say exactly why he was suddenly whispering except that his heart was thumping oddly and his voice didn't seem to work properly. "Tell me again." 

You might think it would be difficult to tell anyone anything while your mouth was so completely occupied but Tamamori supposed that was one of Miyata's best points. He really was an excellent communicator and sometimes that meant knowing exactly when to shut up. 

They fit together so well - the delicious slide of their lips against each other, the way their hands naturally gravitated to thread through hair or fist fabric to pull just a little bit closer. Tamamori was certain now that he knew what this felt like he would never be able to shut it out of his mind again - the magnetic center of emotion that lay between them. 

Some long, breathless moments later, Miyata pulled back just far enough for Tamamori to see the curve of his smile. 

"I'm not going to ask Manager-san about this," he said, his voice full of affectionate amusement. 

"I think that's probably for the best." 

He couldn't keep the smile off his face. Right now his giant dork grin could probably give Miyata's a run for its money but he couldn't really bring himself to care. He should probably start planning that date.


End file.
